


the delusions of our childhood

by elegantstupidity



Series: like a young saint [2]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Secret Fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantstupidity/pseuds/elegantstupidity
Summary: Ginny invites Mike back to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. Because he's an excellent boyfriend, he accepts. If he's got ulterior motives, all that matters is that he thinks Ginny will be on board with them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> happy sinning sunday, everyone!

"There's still time. I bet there're still hotel rooms available. We could definitely make it back to the car before she gets to the door." Ginny's eyes flicked down to his knees and she frowned. "At least, _I_ could."

 

"Don't knock the titanium, Gin. Paid good money for these bad boys," Mike teased, trying to cajole a smile onto his girlfriend's face. Her frown didn't budge, so he snaked an arm around her waist in a quick hug. He pressed a kiss against her temple for good measure. "It'll be fine. Besides, if we leave, how am I supposed to gather blackmail material from your childhood?"

 

Ginny huffed, her mouth twisting like she wanted to smile but was too stubborn to let it out. Before she could say anything, the door swung open to reveal Janet Baker. 

 

"Ginny Bean!" she exclaimed, gathering up her daughter in a crushing hug. Mike looked on fondly and filed  _that_ little nickname away in his blackmail box. 

 

"Hi, mom," Ginny sighed, tucking her face into her mother's shoulder. Things between the Baker women were better than they'd been at the start of Ginny's career, but Mike wasn't sure if they would ever be completely at ease with each other. What did he know, though? It wasn't as if he had much experience with healthy mother-child relationships.

 

"And you! Don't think I missed you!" Before Mike really knew what was happening, Janet Baker had him wrapped up in a warm hug of his own. Man, he'd always known moms loved him, but this was something else. 

 

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Baker." It was important to note that Mike didn't stutter. He may have wanted to, but he didn't. The look of pure mirth on his girlfriend's face when he caught a glimpse of her over her mother's shoulder was probably worth the blow to his ego. 

 

"It's Janet, Mike," she corrected, finally letting him go and shooing them off the front porch and into the house. She chattered for a bit before realizing they were still weighed down by their luggage. Janet turned to her daughter and suggested, "Why don't you go put those bags in your room and then you can give Mike a tour of the house. Your brother will be here in a few hours and I've got a few errands to run before he does."

 

Ginny shrugged and led him toward the stairs. She stopped suddenly, though, one foot raised above the first step. Mike nearly ran into her, not that his girlfriend even noticed. She leaned around him to look at her mom. "Did you...?"

 

Janet Baker smiled indulgently, flicking a significant look at Mike that he pretended to ignore. "Of course, baby."

 

Ginny practically sagged with relief. "Thanks, mom."

 

The answering chuckle followed them up the stairs. 

 

It was easy to put the strange interaction out of mind, especially with the coil of anticipation twisting in Mike's gut. He trailed Ginny, looking around in interest at the family photos and memorabilia. Every step, though, he was aware of how much closer he was to his goal. 

 

A truly ridiculous goal for a man inching towards 40, yeah, but Mike was comfortable with that. 

 

Then, they were there and Ginny was showing him into her bedroom. 

 

Having moved around a lot as a kid, Mike Lawson had never gotten to enjoy the particular pleasure of sleeping with someone in his childhood bedroom. Well, at least not as an adult. And this weekend, he intended to do something about it. 

 

He wasn't sure why it was such a  _thing_ for him, but it was.

 

Maybe because whenever he and Rachel visited her parents, she was always so stressed that they never had sex. At least not on the visits home. Mike couldn't fathom why she was so stressed, though; Rachel's family was offensively normal. Mom, dad, three kids plus various spouses and offspring. That was the American Dream, right? If he hadn't valued his life and all of his body parts, he would have told her to chill the fuck out. Wisely, he kept his council and watched as his wife chewed her way through a bottle of Tums every trip home. It wasn't a sight that exactly put him in the mood. And anyway, he hadn't been such a terrible husband that he'd try to live out one of his fantasies in spite of his wife's ever-increasing anxiety.

 

Then, after she left him, Mike assumed he wouldn't ever get the chance to realize that particular scenario. After all, Rachel had been the first woman he'd ever loved, and he _married_  her. Mostly, he assumed he'd never have a girlfriend important enough to follow home for a family gathering. Mike Lawson didn't do things by halves, and a girlfriend that important would undoubtedly become the next Mrs. Lawson. He wasn't sure he was ready for a second Mrs. Lawson.

 

(He couldn't imagine putting himself in a position to have his heart broken again.)

 

Then again, he'd never imagined someone quite like Ginny Baker.

 

She was simultaneously too good for him and exactly who he needed. That he'd had to wait through seasons for her, through boyfriends and his own ill-fated reconciliation with Rachel, through the heartbreaks and highs of the game, hardly even mattered. They had each other now and he couldn't ask for anything more. How he'd convinced her to go out with him, let alone move in, was a mystery. A mystery he didn't even want to solve if it meant losing her.

 

What could he say? He was in love.

 

So, sure. It would be an exaggeration to say that he only followed Ginny Baker to North Carolina for Thanksgiving so he could fuck her in the room she grew up in. But. It wasn't as if it hadn't been a  _factor_ in that decision making process. And, no. He hadn't told her about this weird, though harmless, fantasy of his. There was no need to make this into some kind of big deal. If they had sex in her room, great. Awesome, even. If they didn't, there was always next time. 

 

Mike really hoped he wouldn't have to wait for next time. 

 

Especially after stepping into Ginny's room. 

 

Looking around, Mike could imagine Ginny growing up in this room. From the trophies to the pictures on her walls, everything seemed to fit. And seeing his, very grown up, girlfriend among all these keepsakes from her childhood? It was working for him. 

 

Yeah, he was really going to need to ruin some of her childhood memories in here. In a good way.

 

Ginny rubbed self-consciously at her shoulder and Mike became aware of how they'd been standing in utter quiet for probably too long. He grinned as an inadequate cover up. 

 

"I don't see the shrine to me anywhere. Is it hidden under the bed?" he joked, poking around her desk. 

 

The soft flush on her cheeks could have meant anything, but the half-hearted thump she gave his chest definitely signaled her exasperation. "For your information, I was more of a A.J. Pierzynski girl," she sniffed. 

 

"That's a dirty lie!" Mike whirled on her, pointing an accusatory finger. "No one, including the man's own wife, is an A.J. Pierzynski fan."

 

"Fine! Fine! You got me," Ginny giggled. "It was Joe Mauer."

 

"Oh, Gin. You are so dead!" And before she could run, he swept her up and had her pinned to the closed bedroom door. She shrieked in laughter as his fingers found all the ticklish spots he'd been cataloguing since they first started dating. He'd known this information would come in useful. 

 

Ginny, apparently, had been doing her own cataloguing. Her own clever hands snaked under his defenses and prodded at his side, sending Mike into his own fit of uncontrollable laughter. Soon, they were both helpless, trying to tickle the other while fending off another attack. Mike had one of Ginny's hands pinned to the door, the other squeezed her ribcage. He had an advantage, getting to rub his stubble against her sensitive skin and revel in the way her body shook with laughter. Still, Ginny didn't surrender, tickling without mercy a spot on his back Mike hadn't even been aware of. 

 

Their battle was interrupted by the sound of Janet Baker calling up, "Ginny?"

 

"Yeah?" Ginny shouted back with no consideration for Mike's eardrums. He reared back and she grinned at him triumphantly. Okay, maybe his eardrums were considered. She was so gonna pay for that.

 

"I have to run out to the store. Would you like to come with or stay and get settled?"

 

Ginny raised an eyebrow in silent question and Mike shrugged. Like it didn't matter. Like he wasn't already practically aching to get Ginny naked and into her bed.

 

Obviously, Ginny could see right through him. "I think we'll stay and get unpacked if that's okay," she called down. 

 

"All right. Let me know if you think of anything we'll need!" With that, Mike heard the faint sound of keys clinking together and the thud of the front door. 

 

Smiling to himself—how perfect was this?—Mike closed the distance and laid a soft kiss against Ginny's lips. She was still grinning, too, her heart rate a little elevated from their tickle fight. He pressed closer and let his hands wander, though this time he was intent on her pleasure, not her surrender. Ginny's head rolled to the side and he busied himself with her thrumming pulse point. 

 

"This is so weird," Ginny breathed, though her hands wandering down his back undermined the sentiment. 

 

"Really? Never had a boy up here before?" he asked offhandedly, the chuckle buzzing through his chest as he nibbled at her ear. 

 

"Ha ha," she snarked, nails digging into his ass in retaliation. Otherwise, she didn't dignify the question with a response. 

 

"So," he murmured into the agonizingly soft skin of her neck. That he had to nose aside the sweatshirt she'd stolen from him only days into their relationship wasn't much of a turnoff. He loved how she looked in his clothes. Even when she insisted they were hers. "Tell me the furthest you've ever gotten in here." 

 

"Uh, this?" she replied, uncertainty turning the statement into a question.

 

Mike's hands froze. Sure, one was palming her breast through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, but the other was just tangled in her hair. He wasn't even pressed against her, giving her evidence of just how unbelievably hot she was. It was PG-13 at most. If this was as far as she'd ever gotten, then... "This?" he double checked, incredulous and rocking back to look her in the eye. 

 

Ginny huffed. "Yeah. It's not like there was a line of guys banging down my door back then."

 

"Then those guys were idiots," he said, but leaned in to kiss the vaguely embarrassed look off her face. 

 

"I didn't really have time for anyone anyway," she justified, her tone defensive. "Not unless they were holding a mitt or a bat."

 

"True," Mike conceded, back to laying soft, questing kisses down the slope of her neck and shoulder. "But you have time now."

 

"Now?" she asked, though it came out as more of an incredulous laugh. 

 

"Now," he replied, utterly serious. 

 

"Mike, that's..."

 

When Ginny didn't finish, he straightened, only pulling away enough so he could look at her without going crosseyed. Her eyes flicked towards her bed and Mike turned to look, too. He didn't see the problem. Focusing back on the woman in his arms, he raised a brow. 

 

"What, Gin? C'mon, don't tell me Ginny Baker never laid in that bed and imagined what it would be like to have Mike Lawson right beside her." He'd meant it to be teasing, another crack about his poster on her wall, but Ginny flushed a dark red. This was nothing like the way she usually blushed when she felt shy and overwhelmed. This was pure, self-conscious embarrassment and Mike bared his teeth in a shit-eating grin. "You did, didn't you?" he crowed.

 

Maybe two fantasies would be fulfilled this afternoon.

 

"No," she protested, finally pushing him away from her and slipping further into her room. Mike turned to watch her go, took in the way her eyes kept flicking between him and the bed. Her breaths sounded quick and harsh in the otherwise silent room, but he didn't think she was angry. Not really. She licked her lips and all bets were off.

 

Suddenly, this wasn't just Ginny Baker's childhood bedroom. This was the room where they were going to fuck each other's brains out.

 

Mike prowled across the room, slow enough that Ginny could evade him if she wanted. She remained rooted in place, tracking his every move silently. Her eyes had gone dark and only dedicated study of her every mood and expression gave him a hint of what she was thinking. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, it wasn't that far off of what he'd had in mind himself.

 

"I think that's a big, fat lie," he informed her, stepping into her personal space. His voice had dropped into a low, dark croon; the one that drove her crazy. Ginny's chest heaved; the sound of air rushing into her lungs filled Mike's ears. He cupped her face, thumb running over her parted lips. "I think you did exactly that and more. You learn how to make yourself come in this bed?"

 

Ginny's tongue darted out to caress the tip of his thumb and Mike hauled himself even closer to her. "Maybe," she hedged, looking up at him through her eyelashes. 

 

"Closer," he murmured, replacing his thumb with his lips. Before he could quite make contact, though, Ginny surprised him. She breathed three words against his mouth and his belly tightened and the world narrowed to just them and the question hovering where their breath mingled.

 

"You wanna see?"

 

 _Fuck_. Of course he wanted to see. How was this turning out even better than he imagined? At his silent, almost dumbfounded nod, Ginny's wicked grin unfurled and Mike knew he was well and truly screwed. 

 

"All right, old man, but hands to yourself." Taking his agreement as a given, she pulled out of his arms and practically dove into bed. She settled up against the pillows and Mike gingerly sat at the foot. After some not-so-discreet rearrangements, which Ginny tracked greedily. As soon as his ass touched the bed, though, she was in motion again, peeling off her leggings, but leaving the giant sweatshirt and her underwear. 

 

Mike groaned and Ginny's eyes flashed to him. "C'mon, babe. You gotta let me see," he pled. 

 

She hummed, fingers ghosting over the plain cotton of her underwear. A small, dark spot spread from between her legs and Mike desperately wanted to do something about it. Ginny must have sensed his unrest because she nudged him with her foot and shook her head. "No interfering," she reminded him sternly, even as she started drawing maddening little circles above her covered clit. Her other hand dove underneath the sweatshirt, hem pooling around her lithe forearm. Only the slight movement of the fabric above her chest and knowledge of her preferences gave Mike any hint about what was going on under there. 

 

After a few strokes, Ginny lifted her hips and wriggled out of her dampening panties. Mike sighed in relief, his already hard dick twitching within its denim confines. Grinning, Ginny flicked the scrap of cotton off her foot and right at Mike. He snatched them out of the air, catcher's reflexes hardly dulled by retirement. His eyes were trained on her beautiful face, watching her lips part in a quiet gasp and her own eyes slide shut. Her neck arched, chin tilting into the air as her head tipped back into the pillows. 

 

Mike's gaze trailed down, took in the lump of her hand beneath the sweatshirt right over her perfect tits. He wished he could see, but didn't want to risk her stopping if he tried to get her out of the massive cover up. He continued down, past the exposed crescent of her flat stomach and the sparse patch of hair above the apex of her thighs. Down further and her long, slender fingers had her pussy lips spread open, middle finger dipping inside at a leisurely pace. The heel of her palm dug into that sensitive bundle of nerves, almost punishing compared to the easy glide of her fingers. Mike spared a quick glance back up at Ginny's face. She chewed on her lip, lashes fluttering. Like she couldn't decide whether to keep her eyes open or shut. Not that there was anything to see. Just the empty wall and ceiling above her bed.

 

Her hips shifted and a second finger slipped inside to join the first. Ginny picked up the pace, little gasps puffing past her lips and mingling with the wet suck of her fingers thrusting into her cunt. She writhed, her long legs drawing up and knees falling open.

 

Mike was mesmerized. His mouth was dry. More importantly, his dick strained against its clothing prison. He considered taking it out, stroking himself as Ginny got herself off, but he really wanted to fuck her when this was all said and done. Still, it was a tempting prospect. He'd watched Ginny touch herself before, wanted to see exactly what she liked, but she'd never been this uninhibited. She'd also never brought herself to the edge this quickly before. How worked up had she been? His trapped hard on twitched insistently, but that could wait until Ginny fall apart. And those little gasping hiccups were her tell. She was close. 

 

Ginny's head pressed deeper into the pillows and Mike watched her eyes fly open, take in the bare wall above her bed, and screw shut again. She groaned in frustration even as she added a third finger to the first two, taking up her furious pace again. Her other hand slithered out from under the sweatshirt to rub frantically at her clit. 

 

Mike couldn't figure out what was wrong. Clearly she was close and ready. She wouldn't have come up to the edge so quickly if she hadn't been. But something was keeping her from falling over the edge. His hand hovered over the smooth skin of her leg. It would be so easy to wade in and finish her off himself, but something stopped him. 

 

"Gin," he murmured, waiting for an answering groan, if not her full attention. She didn't bother to lift her head or even open her eyes to look at him. Her fingers still flew in and out of her dripping cunt, shining slickly in the afternoon light. "C'mon, babe. Show me how you made yourself come." Ginny's sounds became more approving, less frustrated, so Mike kept talking, practically growling out his arousal "Fuck, you're so sexy. Let me see your eyes, Gin. I want to see your face when you come. C'mon. Look at me," he begged. 

 

Ginny's eyes flashed open and along the length of her amazing body, connected with Mike's. Her whole body seemed to convulse and a surprised gasp burst from her mouth. She twisted, fingers still buried in her wet pussy. Her thighs splayed as wide as possible, digging into the mattress and her hips bucked. Mike held his breath for a few timeless moments and watched her ride out the almost violent climax. Finally, her muscles unwound, body sagging into the bed beneath her. 

 

As she panted shallowly, recovering, Mike crawled up to lay himself down next to her. He rubbed soothing circles into the bare skin of her hip until Ginny sighed and rolled into him. She tucked her face against his neck and he gathered her into his arms.

 

"'M not used to having you down there," she murmured once she'd recovered enough for words.

 

Mike grinned wickedly, sliding a knee between her thighs. "We can work on that."

 

Ginny chuckled, her mouth twisting in mirth. Her fingers carded through his hair, leaving Mike practically purring in contentment. "That's not what I meant."

 

"Oh?" he asked absentmindedly, more concerned with finally getting that goddamned sweatshirt off of Ginny's perfect body. When she didn't reply, though, he looked up and saw the indecision warring on her face. Concern coloring his voice, he prompted, "Ginny?"

 

She flushed when she saw how intently he studied her. "Um." She chewed on her lip as she considered. When she finally released it, she confessed, "I used to have your poster."

 

"I knew it!" he crowed. "Where is it now? Did you bring it with you when you were drafted?"

 

She shoved at his shoulder and he caught hold of her hand, holding it against him. "No," she replied mulishly, trying to tug out of his grip. He rubbed at the delicate bones of her wrist until she stopped, her fingers curling into his t-shirt.

 

"Sure you didn't." When it became clear Ginny was unwilling to divulge, he drawled, "You know, if you don't tell me, I'm just going to assume you've rebuilt your shrine to me somewhere in the house."

 

Ginny laughed in disbelief. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous!" Mike waggled his eyebrows in response and she collapsed in a fit of giggles. "I asked my mom to take it down before we got here."

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Uh, maybe because I knew you'd be impossible if you saw it?"

 

"Fair," Mike conceded. "So, where was it?"

 

Ginny's mouth clamped shut, but her eyes flicked up. Up to the empty wall right above her headboard. Flashes of Ginny writhing around, her eyelashes fluttering as she kept looking at that same spot wound through Mike's brain, accompanied by her noises of frustration, the way she couldn't finish until—

 

She looked in his eyes. 

 

A delighted grin spread across Mike's face and Ginny groaned at the sight. 

 

"So, when you say that you're not used to seeing me down there—"

 

"Shut up."

 

"—it was because you're used to seeing me up there?"

 

Ginny just groaned, pushed at his shoulders until he rolled away from her. As soon as his weight was gone, she buried her face in one of her pillows, letting out a low whine of distress. Mike laughed and propped his head up to look down at this ridiculous woman. 

 

 _I sure can pick 'em_ , he thought fondly when Ginny finally peeked out from her hiding place. She almost ducked back under the pillow when she caught sight of Mike, but he gently wrestled it from her grip. She stared at him, lips a tight line and eyes worried. Mike reached out to smooth the frown lines from her forehead, but she still regarded him, silent and serious.

 

"What's the problem?" he prompted. Easier to get through this than let it fester. 

 

"I'm waiting for you to be a dick about this."

 

"What do I have to be a dick about? That you fantasized about me as a teenager? Hate to break it to you, Gin, but you're not alone on that front."

 

"There it is," she accused, lips pursing.

 

"I'm sorry," he immediately replied. Ginny flicked him a look like she didn't quite believe him. Tentatively, Mike wrapped an arm around her waist, nudging her to lay on her side so they could face each other again. He loved talking to Ginny like this. Sharing secrets or stories across a single pillow. It felt easy and intimate and still made Mike's heart actually swell every time he realized just who he was laying next to. "It's just hard to believe you could actually want me when you've been living with the Fantasy Mike Lawson for so long. Hard to believe that I could live up to that guy."

 

"You don't," Ginny said, too quickly for his liking. Before he could protest, her face brightened and she leaned in to kiss the confused frown off his lips. Pulling away just enough to finish her thought, Ginny's words were a balm, "You're better."

 

Mike wrapped his arms around her, cuffing one hand around her neck to keep her face just where she wanted it. They made out like teenagers for a while, eager and easy. Except for the fact that Ginny still wasn't wearing any pants and Mike was pretty sure that he'd have made a mess of his own by now if he were still a teenager.. 

 

Ginny rolled so his weight pinned her to the bed. As he attached his lips to her pulse point, she sighed. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

 

"Probably not," he agreed. The twist in her mouth was not encouraging, so he offered a compromise. "Would it help if I shared one of my fantasies?"

 

Instantly, she said, "Yes."

 

Since this was already a thing with or without Mike's issues, he told her. "I've never gotten to fuck someone in their childhood bed."

 

"You're just saying that," she accused. "Is that even a thing?"

 

"It's a thing, Baker," he returned dryly. To prove his point, he shifted so his trapped erection pressed into her hip. 

 

Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh," she breathed, her hands already on his belt and fly, working his pants open. Her clever hands worked into the opening and Mike's hips stuttered into her warm, firm grip. She grinned and echoed his earlier words. "We can work on that. Already got one of my fantasies out of the way. Might as well do one of yours, too."

 

Mike was having trouble formulating a coherent thought, but his mind snagged on that word. Fantasy. "Which of your fantasies have we covered, again?"

 

Her wrist twisted and suddenly his dick was lined right up with her soaking pussy. "I've got Mike Lawson in bed with me. I think anything else is just the cherry on top," she replied, dragging a foot up the back of his thigh until she could tap his ass with her heel and urge him forward.

 

Well, there'd be no argument on that front from Mike, so he gripped her hips and slid home. Ginny's hands slid beneath the waistband of his jeans and boxers, fingers curling into the flesh of his backside. Once he was fully seated inside her, he let his hands wander up, under the sweatshirt. Since he didn't particularly want her hands to leave any part of him, he settled for pushing the fabric up into her armpits. Every inch of skin revealed left Mike feeling weak in his new titanium-plated knees. Then, when it became clear that she hadn't bothered with a bra this morning, he buried his face in her smooth, bronze skin. 

 

Ginny giggled at the rasp of his beard between her breasts and Mike grinned, setting up a lazy pace with his hips. Her wet, warm pussy clung to his cock and they both groaned at the heavy drag out and sighed on the thrust back in. 

 

Eventually, she must have gotten sick of the bulky fabric banded under her arms, because she released his ass and raised her arms to wiggle out of the sweatshirt. She left them up, fingers curling around the metal bars of her headboard. Her powerful legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle of his thrusts enough to leave them both panting. 

 

"Gin, you close?" Mike murmured, finally lifting his face from the smooth skin of her breasts. Slightly less smooth after he rubbed his stubble against her, he was pleased to note. Between the combination of watching Ginny get herself off and being in her old bedroom, fucking her in the bed she slept in up until she left home, Mike was perilously close. He could feel the urge to come sneaking up on him, coiling in his stomach and waiting to be unleashed. 

 

She nodded, fingers going white as her grip on the headboard tightened. Her head tipped back again as her spine arched in pleasure. To back up her assurance, her cunt clamped down around him, a first sign of her impending climax. 

 

"Good, baby. C'mon, let me see you come again," he urged, picking up his pace and trying to brush against her clit on every pass. "Look at me, Gin."

 

She tilted her chin down and suddenly Mike was lost in her wide, brown eyes. Dimly, he was aware of her jaw falling open, her legs tightening around his waist as her orgasm washed over. It was dim, though. Mike was pretty wrapped up in his own to pay too much attention. 

 

When he was finally back in control, his heartbeat thrummed in his ears and Ginny was pinned beneath his bulk. Sheepishly, he muttered, "Sorry," and rolled to the side, pushing away the heavy weight of post-orgasmic lethargy. Ginny's legs unhooked from his waist, but they remained tangled with his. So, she rolled with him, ending up snuggled against his chest. 

 

"S'okay," she responded hazily. "Live up to your expectations?"

 

There wasn't a chance that anything involving Ginny Baker wouldn't surpass even his wildest dreams, but he wasn't gonna tell her that. Smug wasn't a good look on her. 

 

Okay, that was a lie. Everything was a good look on her. Mike just didn't have the energy to keep it from going to her head.

 

"Don't know. Think we'll have to do some more testing to find out."

 

Ginny just laughed, calling his bluff. She patted his chest before climbing to her feet and sauntering over to their abandoned luggage. Bending to dig out clean clothes, clothes that probably didn't reek of sex, Ginny presented an enticing prospect. Mike clambered to his feet and ambled over to her. He laid his hands against her hips as she straightened, the muscles of her back tensing and shifting together beautifully. She peered over his shoulder at him and he swooped in to steal a kiss. She laughed against his mouth but relaxed into his broad chest. One of her hands snaked behind to rest against his neck and Mike's wandered to her tits and ghosted along the tops of her thighs. 

 

"If you don't stop that, my mother is going to come home and be scarred for life," she scolded, twisting away from him and ducking into a t-shirt before pulling out another pair of leggings. Mike honestly wasn't sure how many she owned, just that they seemed to multiply every time he turned around. 

 

He made a grab for her, grinning as she danced away, one leg clothed and one still bare. She elbowed him when he came in close again and Mike collapsed on her bed, fully aware of how debauched and disheveled he looked with his jeans still unzipped, belt dangling open in the loops. At least he'd had the sense to tuck his dick away. Ginny's eyes traced over him as she drew the clingy spandex up her legs. When she was clothed again, she sauntered over to him and stood between his spread knees. Mike offered her a cocky grin as she looked down at him with her hands on her hips. 

 

"Testing later, old man. Put yourself together. We've got a tour to conduct."

 

Joints creaking, Mike pushed himself up and did as he was told. 

 

Ginny was right. There was always later. And besides. If a tour of the house went even half as well as the tour of her room, Mike was about to be a very happy man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be pure smut. Maybe, someday, I'll sit down to write something serious and pure filth will come out. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway, i started this on Thanksgiving because tumblr said I should, so I'm not responsible. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I love hearing from all of you even when I'm not the greatest at replying. Here or on [tumblr](http://www.megaphonemonday.tumblr.com)!


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